


Beyond My Gray, Perhaps White World

by NightlyWhispersOrRainbowSeizure



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Don't judge pls ;-;, Eremin - Freeform, First Fanfiction, HARD, I'm trying, Like, Maybe - Freeform, Multi, Shit Hits The Fan, Stuff goes down, Telepathy, ahhhggghhhhh, attack on titan - Freeform, crap, i like tags k, i think, im sorry, mean;), rating might go up if you know what I, shingeki no kyojin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-04-19 02:00:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4728554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightlyWhispersOrRainbowSeizure/pseuds/NightlyWhispersOrRainbowSeizure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He couldn't explain anything about what, or how, the visual of his imagination enticed him so.<br/>How he even knew about the colors waiting outside to burn his porcelain doll skin with a magnifying glass. How his tangled mind could even be a cobra wrapping itself around the silly notion that something is out there.<br/>Not so silly anymore, is it?<br/>But the truth is, Armin knew. He knew all along. He could explain how and why breeze can even blow your hair around like a million fingers. Or why the kaleidoscope array of shrubbery is coming from the ground and not from the sky.<br/>Why oxygen can flow in your body, and out like a burglar; stealing secrets and thoughts, just to let them go again.<br/>Why he couldn't gather the strength to smile when it was most needed; or why he even bothered to at all. Why the tanned man's smile could break his heart in so many ways and then piece it back together again.<br/>Armin knew it all. But, then again, ignorance is bliss... Isn't it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Free for Once

Life was bittersweet. One more than the other at times, but nonetheless 'bittersweet'.  
Even with the existence of the parasite, or death's ominous fingers stretching over the horizon every time dawn settles in the sky; the eerie ticking of a clock in a silent room counting down your pathetic life to just numbers -seconds.  
Because to Armin, that is all he is. Pathetic, and nothing short of a useless vegetable.  
Because to Armin, that is all he will ever be -as long as the memory of friendly eyes loosing their seemingly eternal light, and him having done nothing to stop it.  
There were walls around his city -his life. Nobody knew what was outside, not anyone except the guards. Armin was sick, such as the people infected, of sitting around and waiting for death's stopwatch to finally strike zero and explode his universe. No, he'd escape. And so he did.  
Nothing was ever much easy, but this was easy enough. With fatal plague spreading through the crowded city, doctors were needed more than soldiers or guards. Armin had caught the tightly woven system in a weak spot -a tear in the fabric, if you will.   
It was all worth it, in the end.  
Sweet.  
He finally got to see the sun stretch across the now endless horizon, Armin realized he'd been the first citizen of wall Maria to ever go outside. A peaceful smile graced his lips as morning sun caressed his face like a mother finally seeing her son after years of waiting; the sun was his mother. Everything was different here, hinted with freedom and open space.  
Armin walked through the grassy field surrounding the walls, and he didn't look back. He would make new memories, he'd forget his bloodstained past. Armin would tell his grandfather how life outside would be; how it was. He'd be happy.  
The blonde continued to walk, his sky blue eyes endlessly scanning the new world around him. He stopped a few times to observe animals closely, to even wonder as to why he was even there.  
Armin had walked as far as a forest containing the largest trees he'd ever seen. He was sure that his eyes were stretched wide in silent awe of nature. He felt the thick tree bark under his fingers. The three dimensional contour of different shapes, figures, positions; it fascinated Armin.  
This place, was heaven ascending from a disease ridden city. A Piccasso masterpiece -something the blonde would only read or see in books.  
But everything must come to an end. But in Armin's case, this is only his beginning.  
The sound of wooden wheels riding the fertile piece of Earth filed into the blonde's earshot. It was a noise he knew all too well, and one that would possibly be his own demise.  
He wasn't running, though. Armin was frozen in place, paralyzed, something had caught him off guard and when he finally came to and ran, it was too late. The wooden carriage had seen him along with the people in it.  
So he had been caught. And by the Military Police, no less.  
That, audience, is where our fateful story begins about a boy that out of nowhere decided to risk everything and go outside.  
-  
Armin sighed for probably about the millionth time since getting taken away from his paradise.  
He wished to be out there again, basking in mother nature's silence and various noises. Not in a flimsy wooden carriage taking him back home, to the city, where he'd likely just get infected and die a horrible death. He would never tell his deceased grandfather about the ocean.  
"-re you even listening, blondie?" Came a sneer from the upper seats of the square carriage. A guard was talking to him; Armin just sighed. He certainly didn't feel the need to butt in and triple the amount of rape jokes that were currently passed around, so he decided to be a vegetable, such as he was in the city.  
Such as anyone could be when they've lost every single ounce of hope and will, knowing that if they regained those pieces of lost humanity, they'd shatter and break for good.  
He stifled a jump as a giant black building snuck into his field of vision. Many words and sets of stone whispered in his ears as sirens in his mind.   
Marble.  
Concrete.   
Tourmaline.  
Two pairs of hands suddenly grasped his shoulders tight and shoved him off of the carriage, snapping the blonde from his daydream.  
"I am going to prison", he thought, and kept thinking, all the way to the entrance and admission like a broken record.  
By now, a second guard had taken ahold of him and began roughly escorting Armin through the building. The hallways were eerie, silent, and black. All of it -from the ceiling to the linoleum floor. His mother used to tell him that the color matched with everything, but he couldn't understand why it was all the prison was.  
Armin soon found himself in a hallway full of metal, nonetheless black, doors and nasty remarks. The blonde was immune, though; he'd heard it all back in the city.  
"Hey, guard, is he rooming with me?"  
"I'd love to get some of that perky ass on a plate."  
"Ey, blondie! Don't drop the soap, ya hear?" The prisoner cackled.  
Armin felt worthless, demeaned. Not by the insults, but by the amount. He was a man for pete's sake! Not sex on legs. He felt anger clench his pumping heart, but he was never one to yell. All that emitted from his mouth was a pathetic excuse for a 'shut up'.  
Of course, nobody ever listens to him, and the remarks kept on coming. Right until he was shoved into a room by the prison guard.  
Armin sighed and silently thanked the lord, if he even existed for that matter, for the bed he collapsed on in the small room.  
He inhaled dust littered all over the bed and coughed. "You really should dust that shit off of the bed."  
The blonde jolted off of the bed and hurriedly looked the dark room over before his eyes settled on a certain shadow perched on top of the second bed placed next to his like a raven. The shadow smiled, Armin was sure of it. "Ha... Sorry to give you a scare there... I'm Eren." The shadow stretched out a dark tendril, which in actuality was not a tendril, but a human hand.  
Armin scoffed in small shock and surprise. "M... My name is Armin... n...nice to meet you." He murmured, hesitantly connecting their hands and shaking briefly before snatching his hand back.  
Eren chuckled, "I'm not going to rape you." He sat back in his bed. "Nice to meet you too, Armin. Welcome to prison."  
-PART ||-  
"S-so basically... stay away from those guys and those guys are cool?" Eren nodded in vague approval. It'd been around a few days after finding his roommate and admitting into the prison; frankly, it was going better than he expected. Eren, Armin's roommate turned out to have chocolate brown hair to match his caramel skin -bright, green-blue(ish) eyes that scared off death like two monstrous flares. They also scared off inmates; another bonus for Armin!  
"Yep." He agreed, popping the 'p'.  
The lunchroom was enormous, and not to mention that it was too doused in black. Different shades of black and grey, Armin didn't understand why. He glanced at his bare and milk-white arm. He's been assigned a uniform a few minutes after 'settling in'.  
The uniform was a dull grey; short sleeves, and it was everywhere on the bodies of the several inmates littered all over the prison. "Hey... Armin." The blonde immediately snapped his head towards the voice, which just happened to be Eren's. "...why did you end up here, exactly? I mean you don't really look like the type of guy to mu-"  
Armin smiled reassuringly, "It's fine." The brunette nodded eyes filled with interest, "I escaped the city -Wall Maria, to be exact." Eren's eyes widened to saucers, as if his eyes weren't already big enough, "Fuck, dude! Same."  
The blonde's smile widened into a toothy grin, "Really?" The other man nodded vigorously, making him look almost like a child.  
"Yeah! I hate that Godamned city. I think that it's actually really nice outside... No matter what anyone says!" Armin's grin toned down to a more relaxed and warm smile. He remembered it all so clearly; the shining epitomy of his escape -seeing without anything constricting you, and forcing you to see what it wanted behind closed concrete walls.  
He felt the sun's mother-like warm caress, and couldn't help but think of his own mother in the process. In Armin's amazing memory, his mother was just a blur. A beautiful smudge in bright yellow shades of color.  
Voices faded in the blonde's earshot as he struggled to focus that blur in his memory; his memory was a camera lens. The tip of Armin's mouth twitched at the metaphor.  
He was lost in his mind, hugged by his many vivid memories. The grass tickling his knees, wind blowing in his ears like an orchestra of many kinds of flutes and clarinets.  
The deadly stillness blanketing the walled city sometimes when everything seemed okay, but really wasn't. Piles and piles of bodies he would suddenly stumble upon, so big and wide that the pile seemed to go on forever. Dread pooled on the very bottom of Armin's stomach and melted his inside like acid. The blonde had a literal hole in his stomach.  
His eyes clenched along with his fists as he attempted at bearing the unbearable pain in his abdomen. He gasped for air, but he was underwater, and there was no surface to swim out from.  
All he could do was yell. Oh, he did. Armin yelled loud, so that he was sure it would ring off of the walls in the prison. He screamed and cried and begged and pleaded desperately for help. He clawed at his arms in frustration until they bled.  
Armin remembered all the horrible deaths he'd seen; people vomiting organs, blood, food. His grandfather, scratching out his eyes because he 'can't see the monster' without them. Afterwards bursting into tears because he could still hear it.  
The distraught Armin contemplated whether it was himself that was the monster. He sunk deeper in the smooth water, gliding downwards slowly as if being carried to his doom in death's arms.  
He'd stopped yelling by then, welcoming the dread in a sort of twisted and shattered way. The never ending roulette of horrifying memories resumed.  
-  
Armin's arms vigorously scrubbed at the dried blood lathered all over the oak wood floor.  
It was a pain to remove, yes, but money was hard to come by in the city. The blonde refused to burn piles, and doctors were almost non existent along with any shred of evidence for a cure, not to mention proper education.  
So for the time being that there were no other well-paying jobs, Armin found himself stuck with cleaning bloodstains off of floors and streets.  
At least it was better than shoveling dirty corpses into piles and burning them continuously so that the stench of bubbling, sizzling skin and bone lingered in your nostrils like an unwelcome guest.  
His blue eyes still held a dull light in them, his grandfather was healthy for the time being and so was he. They may pull through with this new job of his. The ghost of a smile began to form on Armin's pale lips and the light in his blue eyes grew to a brighter shade.  
With a brand new resolve and money in his pocket, Armin began the trek home from work. His shoes lifted loose sediment from the ragged dirt path he trodded on. His eyes held his soul in a hopeful and determined smile.  
The city, for a moment, seemed to acknowledge the blonde's determination. The silence and tension that asphyxiated the blonde lessened for a moment to be undermined by a second of peace-like wakefulness before returning back to it's original state; a headache in the city's wake.  
The sunset hovered over Armin's restricted view of the horizon, and it illuminated the city in a warm, soft glow.  
Armin dropped his woven basket. His mouth gaped wide open. He ran inside the open house, panic running like a river through his veins.  
"Grandpa!" The old man was lain on the floor, blood tricking down from his chapped mouth. Armin immediately kneeled next to his beloved family member. His hands twitched with nerves as his brain dictated instructions. The blonde hastily carried his small grandfather to a bed and brung him water along with wet towels.  
All hope dissapeared from the youth's eyes, completely dissipated and replaced by worry and stress. He didn't sleep or go anywhere for days in favor of caring for his elder. Armin would stay by his grandfather's bedside for whole days, only leaving to fetch food or more wet towels.  
It was all in vain, though, as one day the infamous scratching started just as he'd heard about it. First, the victim would scratch at their arms, and it would progress to usually the neck. But in the grandfather's case, it was the eyes.  
Story told that the parasite let out hallucinogens and at that stage would be in the brain, causing hallucinations of various things.  
"Armin... Young one..." He rasped out one day, to the surprise of the mentioned youth. His grandfather hadn't talked since the last time he'd been out for work. "Monst-er..." A horrifying coughing fit followed the elder's words, prompting Armin to hurriedly get water and gently pour it into his beloved grandfather's mouth. The elder went silent.  
Silence. Frustrating silence followed and voices burrowed in Armin's ears. White noise rung and bounced off of the walls of his skull, he groaned. The blonde floated into softness and conscious breathing and oxygen flying freely through his blood and filling his cells.  
Stinging was what greeted him into the world. Armin felt ragged sheets surround him and a busty pillow lain bellow his hollow head. A long, lethargic, tired sigh escaped from the depths of his throat. Something shifted in the dim room following a voice, "Armin?" Someone moved closer to the latter, as he struggled to remember what the hell happened.  
The not quite comatose prisoner felt warmth radiate beside him. The Earthly presence and hotness shocked the blonde like electricity. Armin knew where he was; a truck chock-full of memories ran him over causing a thunderclap to bloom in his head.  
The blonde sat up quickly to clutch at his throbbing head and nauseous stomach. "E...Eren?" He managed to hack out of his dry throat. The warmth beside the former felt closer now, it was hovering over him like an umbrella. "Yeah, it's me."  
Armin let out a dry cough and clutched at his chest, "What... Happened?" Eren chuckled a little and explained.   
Apparently, he'd passed out in the middle of the lunchroom, and the prison-appointed nurses had taken him to their cell. The blonde had been in a comatose-like state for five days. The brunette hesitantly noted that the stinging in the blonde's arms was cast there of his own will. He'd been scratching in his sleep. Eren also mentioned that he had no amount of health issues; which unfortunately, made Armin feel a little sad. He scoffed after the simple but yet puzzling summary of the last five days, followed by him sitting back down on his pillow.  
"Five days." He whispered hoarsely. "You aren't going to sleep again!" Eren cried, to which Armin replied with a slightly playful "No."  
They'd then begun to exchange factoids and random topics of conversation. Mostly, of how beautiful it was outside the walls.  
"What time is it now, Eren?" Armin said during one point of their extensive conversation, "What time is it -is it time to wait or time to go?" Eren had a good laugh at this, which stopped abruptly in the middle for Eren to reply, "Whatever it takes to get out of the wall. How would you accomplish that by waiting?"  
The blonde turned his head to the shadow plastered up against the wall and sitting up on the bed next to his. "Wait patiently -then strike when the time is right, Eren. But to have that all get thrown back at your face like some giant jack-in-the-box? I give up." Armin sighed a long, tired sigh.  
He hadn't even known he was crying until he felt tears roll down his cheek. Light cracked through the closed windows on the wall and door.; the two had been talking all night. Eren looked towards his saddened companion and slid out of his bed. He knelt right in front of Armin's face and held those porcelain colored cheeks in his rough hands, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. "I'll tell you my secret, then," The brunette whispered to the air in between the two, "You keep trying. There are more doors than just one, you know. Armin, you're smart but you've got something holding you back. I suggest you free yourself from it." The mentioned smiled at his passionate friend and rubbed his cheek against his thumbs. "Thank you, Eren."


	2. Absence and Appearance of Eren

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm back after an EXTREMELY LONG WAIT and I'm really sorrypleasedon'tkillmethat'dbereallynicethankyou. The reason is because I'm lazy and writer's block sucks so yeah! But I'm here and THANK YOU TO StillSinging and TheMistressofFire for commenting and leaving kudos! I know this probably doesn't mean much to you guys, but STILL THANK YOU SO MUCH!  
> Okay guys I'm not insane but you get the deal :D  
> Anyways, this chapter can get confusing because there's still a lot to learn about the plot and stuffs like that, more things will gO DOWN later on and yes.  
> OH one more thing!! The next chapter is gonna be up earlier than usual because this one is pretty short! So stay tuned!

Sudden green shades of color and present wind whipped his golden hair around as to make him a halo. Memories faded away into silent, oh how ever so quiet, murmurs in his ears. They turn into multiple small kisses and strokes that comforted him whilst in front of the snarling beast buried in his memories. His blue eyes smiled almost secretly, the air purified his lungs and body, and Armin felt safe.

 

In the arms of his mother; the gentle rays of sunshine pouring through every crevice there ever could be in his small world. But that was all gone now, in favor of a completely black prison, dark grey uniforms, and a decent human being other than his grandfather to stand with him. An awkward feeling that was quickly arising in his throat snapped his attention away from his thoughts. His hands flew to his throat, feeling it, squeezing it. Transparent water poured from his mouth and spilled onto the non-existent floor as Armin’s world had eviscerated into nothing-ness. To the blonde’s dismay, water from his mouth that had spilled on the floor was rising up and forming into an ocean. Amongst the unpleasant burn in his lungs and the oncoming threat of death looming over the dreamer, he remained almost motionless, finding some kind of gnarled comfort in the aspect of death. And as the water level came to the tip of his perk and pale nose, he sunk. Slowly, but surely; definitely, Armin felt the life slip away from h –

He bit air into his moist lungs.

_Just a dream_

He lay still, like a statue, as shaky breaths came in and out of his mouth.

_Blink_

_Breathe_

_Blink_

_Breathe_

He slowly turned his head towards the window; the sun was a shy body painted on the sky as it was barely peeking through the trees. The blonde's attention was diverted by a familiar buzz emitting from the prison door. Almost instantly, muffled voices flooded the hallway outside. It was time for breakfast, Armin told himself.

 

Eren’s daily stream of profanity over the noise, this morning, was replaced by an unusual and bare silence; it left the bed-ridden blonde mulling over what was possibly wrong with his cellmate today. The passionate ember, that was Armin’s companion, had become a routine of sorts in his daily life. Although that ember was, by nature, utterly unpredictable and had the potential to set something ablaze, Eren had quirks in places people wouldn’t care to look at. Embers have the tendency to spread around a fire; while he would clutch something in his hands absentmindedly after holding it a while. Or how, unlike that morning, Eren would usually yell out something akin to, “Shut the hell up, some of us are actually sleeping here!” Or the occasional, “Fucking bastards, let me sleep for God’s sake!”, as the prisoners made a racket getting to the lunch hall.

 

Armin’s stomach groaned. He sighed and decided that he probably needed food, and the promise of such bribed him out of his warm sheets. He shuddered briefly at the change of temperature between his bed and the room. Eren wasn’t in his bed, the blonde noticed, which alerted him. Since when do guards take prisoners out of their cells into unknown locations, anyways? He chuckled at the silly thought, the cell-keepers were most likely just performing some health test on him. But it was odd.

 

The feeling of having nobody to share with, after a month, could only be deemed as awkward. To be frank, it felt like he was new to the prison life all over again. But now, instead of getting used to someone, he was alone. Shrugging off the weirdness, Armin walked to the cell door, which, to his satisfaction, opened with a gentle ‘pop’ noise. Somehow the prison could unlock the doors whenever the guards wanted. The blonde would have to find out how it worked someday. But for now, food was awaiting him in the cafeteria.

 

He expected voices to greet him into the hallway, but found silence, instead, was staring him in the face. Everyone was gone now, eating breakfast. Armin felt a strange sort of air swimming around him. Maybe it was the coolness of the morning, he rationalized, thinking of the heavenly forest around the prison. But no, it couldn’t have been that. The doors in this block never opened. The jailhouse treated fresh air like poison.

“Oy, back in your cell. Or the lunch hall. Choose.”

The blonde jumped and directed his blue eyes towards the blunt voice. It came from a guard with two-toned hair, flat cheeks, and an annoyed scowl.

 

“A-ah… sorry…” He apologized softly. The guard sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Look, just go. You’ve been standing there for a while and… your arms are bleeding.” Fear pulsed in Armin’s heart and blood ran fast inside his arteries and veins and thin capillaries. His eyes burned as he slowly turned his head to his arms. He’d just now realized they were numb. Blood spurted from the deep, intent scratches. His head snapped towards the guard, eyes leaking fear and confusion.

“A-“

-Part ||-

The strange blonde fell to the floor with a dead ‘thud’. Jean stood in confusion for a minute or two, then moved towards the unconscious boy and bent down to pull his body up. He’d barely touched the boy’s side with a finger before a cut lacerated the sensitive skin on its tip.

 

“Agh!” He cried, jumping back to safety away from the blonde prisoner. The brunette cursed under his breath as he put the deep cut on his mouth to suck on it. He felt warm blood steadily seep out of the wound and infect his taste buds with its familiar coppery taste. Jean almost choked on the amount of it stuffing his throat. He separated his index and mouth, leaving the injured digit to lay by his side daintily. He recollected his thoughts, not caring for the superfluous thumb. “ _I can just go to the infirmary, anyway.”_ The two-toned brunette thought.

 

“ _But how the fuck am I supposed to take this dipshit with me?”_ He felt cautious around the unconscious blonde, even though he had no reason to be except for the bleeding finger. But the blonde couldn’t have cau-

 

Something in Jean’s mind clicked. “ _Shit.”_ He looked down at the blonde apprehensively, sat against the wall opposite to him and sent out a signal; the brunette waited for his partner to arrive.

 

A while later, he did. “Jean, what’s wrong?” Marco sped down the long hallway. Both men worked in different blocks, so it took some time to get to each other. “You said it was import…ant…” Jean gestured towards the blonde, Armin as they would soon find out, and Marco seemed to get the idea. “Yeah, well… you know. I think he’s one.” The brunette stood and huffed in annoyance. “Go. Do what you do, Marco. I can’t pick him up.” He looked at his freckled partner and sighed at the the others raised eyebrow.

 

“ _Fine, we’ll talk here.”_

_“Good, we can’t have the others know what’s been going on.”_

 

“ _Like those cops will find out. They’re too fucking stupid.”_ Jean smirked. Marco rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, _“Language.”_ It was Jean’s turn to roll his eyes, _“I’m twenty-four years old, don’t go telling me what to do.”_

 

Marco sighed in resignation, “ _Alright, alright. I’ll pick him up now.”_ Jean watched as his partner simply kneeled and threw the blonde over his broad shoulder. _“Let’s take ‘im to Erwin.”_ The brunette gestured to the right end of the long hallway, followed by a nod of agreement from Marco. Wordlessly, the threesome began their long walk to their destination.

 

-Part |||-

Armin was floating. Warmth enveloped him gently, it was a warm blanket wrapped around his… something. He was disconnected… _floating_. He was floating. Hands stroked his rested body to a woken state. He felt cold seep into his bones and shuddered. Armin's eyes tightly shut, a type of abstract night became his world. Muffled shouts surrounded him, and soon everything snapped to life and his senses sharpened. Along with his senses, fear sharpened as well as with the sense of touch, he realized he was being dragged harshly by the arms. Armin ignored the stinging sensation where calloused hands squeezed and tried focusing on the all-of-a-sudden noises that appeared.

“Don’t let him…!”

“Get the…shit!”

 

His throat, on its own, decided to yell perhaps in retribution or response from the guards. The blonde felt the urge to cry; that wasn’t his voice. It was deeper, and strangely familiar. But the familiarity was washed out by the raw _madness_ and sheer _anger_ sewn in. His own, but not, yells kept echoing from his vocal chords in an endless stream until it stopped in an ominous and abrupt cough. Armin felt something warm flow from his mouth onto his bottom lip.

 

His body involuntarily slumped and adrenaline rose in his chest, sending a shiver through his spine. _Why is this happening?_

 

Armin’s mind raced as he attempted to focus on the voices around him and calm down. All of this was draining his focus and patience. The want to cry seemed far away now, as if it wasn’t even his own.

 

“Damn, they really weren’t kidding when they said this guy was fucking nuts!”

A loud chuckle, “Don’t underestimate the board when they say something, then! You might just surprise yourself if you do!”

The two other voices laughed heartily. Armin finally managed to slow himself down a little and think about the dialogue being spoken. “What did I do?” He thought upon analyzing the previous statement made by one of the guards. The last thing he remembered was being in the hallway with a warden of some sort and... the feeling of sleep. What could he have done in his sleep?

 

His train of thought was crashed to a screeching halt and derailed as he was suddenly thrown onto a rock hard surface. He fell on his side and heard a crunch from within his body. He stung all over his abdomen, and needless to say, more warm liquid came up from his mouth.

 

“Hah! Serves little bastard right...” Armin caught one of the guards murmur before footsteps became fainter in his hearing, and a quiet buzz sounded. He quickly knew that he'd been locked inside a room. And just as quickly, anger arose in his chest again. The calm before the storm was over and the storm was going to be the biggest he'd ever experienced.

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY HI!!!  
> I am NW Or RS and nice to meet you~! I am happy to announce the first annual work in this account! *THE ANGELS SING HALLELLUUUYAAH*  
> Okay yeah well, anyways, thanks for taking the time to read this!  
> See you soon? Or later? In the middle???


End file.
